


Conclusions

by MaliceManaged



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, F/M, Frigga Knows Things, Loki Needs a Hug, Misunderstandings, Pre-Thor (2011), Prompt Fic, Soulmate-Identifying Marks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 06:59:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7791418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaliceManaged/pseuds/MaliceManaged
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a universe where your soulmate's first words to you are branded upon your skin, most look forward to their meeting with eager anticipation. But how eager can one be when they discover their bonded's first words are 'Please, don't'?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conclusions

**Author's Note:**

> A friend gave me a prompt, and I quote: "An AU with soul marks and Loki's reluctant to meet his because his words are, like, 'Please, don't' or something like that, but then he meets her and it turns out it wasn't as bad as he was afraid of and then happy ending and babies because yes."
> 
> I love my friends. XD
> 
> It's a bit long, but my muse got a little excited and, well... yeah.

    In a universe where souls were bonded to their partner by unknown design, a mark upon one’s skin declaring the first words one’s other half would say appearing at some point in their lives, most looked forward to that moment with eager anticipation. But how eager can one be when they discover their bonded’s first words are ‘Please, don’t’?

 

    Such was the fate of one Loki of Asgard.

 

    From a young age he had watched people around him discover their marks and later meet their soul bond. They ranged from amusing, like when Thor discovered that the ‘I do’ on his abdomen was Sif’s reply to him loudly asking if anyone dared to challenge him in the training grounds when they were teenagers, to endearing, like when Baldur discovered the ‘Oh, I’m so sorry’ on his left shoulder was Nanna’s apology to having accidentally bumped into him during a feast years later.

 

    _His_ words appeared during a hunt with Thor and his friends; he found them written on his left forearm just above the inside of his elbow as he was getting dressed after his brother had convinced them to stop for a swim before returning to the palace, and quickly pulled his shirt on to hide them. Once back in the sanctuary of his bedchamber, he examined them closely, frowning as he wondered what they could mean. Whatever it was that would lead to such words couldn’t be good, and he couldn’t help but to be disheartened. After all the centuries of waiting for his soul mark to appear; it figured that _his_ would be one of rejection.

 

    Loki resolved to keep the mark out of sight and tell no one of its existence, hoping that whenever the humiliating moment when he would hear those words came, it wouldn’t have too public a setting. To the rest of the realm, nothing at all had changed about the younger prince, so well did he hide his misery, but his mother picked up on it almost immediately as she tended to. She ‘invited’ him to her private garden one day for ‘lunch’, which usually meant that he was in trouble or she wanted to ask something of him, and attendance was most certainly not optional.

 

    As Loki picked at his food half-heartedly Frigga studied him closely, which he pretended not to notice even though they both knew he had. “Something happened during your last hunting trip with Thor,” She stated at length.

 

    “Yes; we caught several boars and a rabbit,” Loki replied aloofly, earning a _look._ He sighed and looked away. “I have no wish to speak of it, mother,” He said softly.

 

    “Not even to me?” Frigga asked.

 

    “I don’t tell you _everything,”_ Loki scoffed.

 

    “No, you don’t; for which I’m infinitely grateful,” Frigga replied casually, “Some things are better left as gossip I can pretend never to have heard.” Loki made a rather peculiar choking sound and looked back at his mother with wide eyes, a near-imperceptible blush colouring his face, and Frigga chuckled before reaching over and taking his hand in hers. “Clearly whatever it is has upset you greatly; perhaps it might help to speak of it,” She tried, but he merely looked down at their hands and said nothing, “Is it your soul mark?”

 

    Loki’s eyes snapped back up. He could almost swear his mother could read his thoughts sometimes; it was a little unnerving how she seemed to always know what was on his mind or in his heart, sometimes better than _he_ did. He considered lying to her for a moment but thought better of it. He didn’t actually want to lie. In the end he looked away again as Frigga patiently waited for his answer. “Yes,” He finally said, barely above a whisper.

 

    “It appeared,” She guessed. She had soothed his worries that he wouldn’t have one many a time throughout his life, and this didn’t feel like those times. Loki nodded silently. “Show me,” She requested gently.

 

    Loki looked back at her, reluctance clear in his expression, then sighed in resignation. “Not here,” He said.

 

    Frigga nodded in understanding and they stood and walked back into the palace. He led her to his bedchamber, the only place he was comfortable sharing such a thing, and pushed up his sleeve to reveal the mark. She ran her finger under the words then looked up at him sympathetically; after all his waiting she could understand why he would be upset to find _those_ words. She gently pulled his sleeve back down and reached up to cup his cheek in her hand.

 

    “Darling, there’s any number of reasons your bonded would say those words,” She tried to reassure him, “It is not necessarily something bad.”

 

    “What good could possibly come of those words, mother?” Loki snapped before immediately regretting it. If there was one person who didn’t deserve his anger, it was his mother.

 

    Frigga took it in stride as ever, smiling kindly at her youngest. “Don’t lose hope, Loki,” She said softly, “You may yet find that things are not as bad as you fear.”

 

    And Loki wanted to believe that. He really did.

 

*****

 

    Loki stalked along a forest in Vanaheim, following the tracks of his elusive prey, senses trained for any disturbance. It had been three hundred years since his soul mark had appeared, and he barely even thought of it anymore now that Thor and his friends had mostly outgrown teasing him about his believed lack of one. He had yet to hear the words and that suited him just fine.

 

    There was movement up ahead and he moved towards it, muffling his footsteps even further with a quick spell. He heard a yelp followed by a whine and he quickened his steps more; breaking into a small clearing, he found a black wolf on the ground, _far_ larger than average, one of its hind legs caught in a hunter’s trap. He frowned slightly; this was neither his prey nor that his trap. Still, he couldn’t very well leave the poor thing. He hadn’t seen any signs of other hunters anywhere in the area; if he left, the wolf would just die a slow painful death.

 

    He approached the wolf slowly, not wanting to startle it; a creature that size could easily tear him apart if he wasn’t careful and he very much wanted to avoid that. The wolf growled slightly but made no move to attack and Loki knelt down at his side to examine the trap. It was then he saw the true size of it, leading him to conclude it was not by chance this animal found itself there and the trap was meant for it. Looking up into the wolf’s eyes once more, Loki leaned a bit closer to the trap and pulled out his dagger, meaning to try to pry it open.

 

    “Please, don’t,” A woman’s voice said from somewhere to his right and he froze. Those were the words. The words he had long dreaded to hear.

 

    He looked over to find a young woman of fair skin with long red hair tied off her face with several somewhat messy braids and startlingly blue eyes currently narrowed at him. She wore a dark tunic and black trousers and boots, a dagger at her belt and in her hands she held a bow, an arrow nocked and ready to fly at him at any moment. He looked back at the wolf as it growled slightly at him, baring its teeth, and then back at the woman, eyes wide with realisation.

 

    “Mother was right,” Was all Loki could think to say.

 

    The woman’s eyes widened and she let out a slight gasp as surprise coloured her features. Those were the words; the words etched across her lower belly that had puzzled her for so long. She lowered her bow and took a step forward as Loki stood up. He was about to go to her when the wolf whined slightly, breaking the moment. The woman immediately ran to it, passing Loki, to kneel at its side.

 

    “I take it it’s yours?” Loki asked as he knelt back down.

 

    “He is,” The woman confirmed, running a hand down the wolf’s neck soothingly before looking at the trap then at Loki, narrowing her eyes, “Did you set this trap?”

 

    “No,” Loki replied earnestly, raising his hands in surrender, “I was about to try and free him, actually.”

 

    “Were you not worried he would attack you?”

 

     “Of course, but I’m not exactly defenceless.”

 

    The woman looked at him closely, head tilted to the side slightly, as though searching for something. “A seidr wielder?” She said mostly to herself, but before he could reply her eyes widened with sudden realisation, “You’re Prince Loki, of Asgard!”

 

    “I am,” Loki replied with a slight nod. And if he sounded just a hint nervous, neither made comment on it.

 

    He turned his attention back to the trap and studied it for a moment, more closely now that he was sure the wolf wouldn’t attack him. It was well constructed but he managed to find a weak point; once the mechanism that kept it shut was broken he began to pry the jaws open while the woman stroked the wolf’s neck and murmured soothingly to him. It wasn’t very easy given the blood made the trap slippery, but eventually Loki succeeded and the wolf was free. He conjured bandages to bind the wound and wrapped it tight.

 

    “Thank you,” The woman said softly after a moment, “I don’t know how to repay you for this.”

 

    “You can tell me your name,” Loki replied with a slight smile, “I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage.”

 

    The woman breathed a laugh. “Ylva,” She replied, holding out her hand to him. He began to reach for it then paused as he remembered his hands were quite covered in blood and gave her an apologetic look. She reached over and grasped it anyway, giving it a surprisingly firm shake.

 

    “Ylva,” Loki repeated slowly, as though trying it out, “Very fitting.”

 

    “Well, mother has the Sight, so I wouldn’t be surprised if she chose it because of me,” Ylva replied with a shrug.

 

    “‘Mother’?”

 

    “Queen Freyja.”

 

    Loki blinked. “Your mother is Queen Freyja??” He asked, sounding quite startled. And how could he not be? While Vanaheim was rather lax about such things; Asgard rather frowned upon carrying on relations with one’s first cousin.

 

    “Well; technically, I’m her ward, but she insists I call her ‘mother’. So, we’re not related,” Ylva replied, figuring out the reason for his unease, and he visibly relaxed.

 

    “May I ask why?”

 

    “My mother was one of her handmaids and closest friends. She died in childbirth, and my father died before I was born, so the queen took me in. Made sure I was raised well, educated and all that. Although, as you can see,” She gestured down at herself, “I’m not much of a Lady.”

 

    Loki laughed a bit. “I think you look perfect,” He said then blinked as he seemed to realise what he’d just said. “I mean... well...” He stopped and cleared his throat awkwardly before deciding to change the subject and looked at the wolf instead. “How ever did you come by such a strange beast?”

 

    He noticed her move closer to him and turned back to her just in time for her to wrap her hand around the back of his neck and pull him into a kiss, hesitating for a startled heartbeat before kissing her back. When they parted she smiled at him and he smiled back before pulling her in for another much fierier kiss. It was as though everything around them had disappeared, and they lost themselves in each other. For the first time in their lives they felt... whole.

 

    What felt like hours later, they parted, the need for air becoming quite critical, and they leaned their foreheads together as they tried to catch their breaths. “His mother gave him to me,” Ylva said suddenly.

 

    It took a moment for Loki to realise what she was talking about, which showed in his expression, and they both laughed. The wolf huffed behind them, as though to remind them of his presence, and they laughed harder.

 

*****

 

    They were in the middle of a council meeting when the doors burst open and in rushed the great black wolf most were _still_ getting used to, despite the passing of a century. The councilmen, of course, were quick to complain and glare at Loki, who had been seated to Odin’s left at the head of the table and had stood as the beast went over to him.

 

    “Fen; you know you’re not supposed to be in here,” The Trickster scolded, ignoring the Lords’ grumblings. Fenrir ignored him completely, which was rather out of character, as he and Ylva were the only people the wolf actually listened to, and clamped his jaws on Loki’s forearm harmlessly before giving a rather insistent pull. “What is it? What’s wrong?” Loki asked, and Fenrir whined slightly and pulled again.

 

    Loki looked at his father and shrugged helplessly, and Odin waved a hand indicating he could leave. Fenrir pulled yet again and Loki batted him away before following him out of the room. They hadn’t been gone for five minutes before the meeting was once again interrupted by an out of breath servant come to inform the younger prince that his wife was in labour, effectively postponing the meeting as Thor grew too excited by the news that his nephew or niece was soon to greet the realm to pay much attention to what was being said.

 

    When Thor and Odin reached the anteroom of Loki’s hall, they found him alternating between pacing and trying to reassure Fenrir that his companion would be alright, which was not the easiest of tasks given his own concern and the occasional yell of obvious pain coming from the bedchamber. Clearly, Ylva was _not_ having a very fun time. After a particularly loud scream, Thor had to step in and help Loki hold Fenrir back from rushing into the other room. Hours later an infant’s cries were heard and soon Frigga walked out of the bedchamber, raising an eyebrow at the sight of both her sons practically lying on top of the great wolf.

 

    Loki immediately got up and went over to her, leaving Thor to wrestle the wolf by himself. “And?” He asked anxiously.

 

    Frigga smiled sympathetically. “She is well; they both are,” She replied and Loki closed his eyes and breathed a sigh of relief. She chuckled and stepped aside. “Go to them,” She encouraged.

 

    Loki didn’t need to be told twice and was in the room in moments just as a very tired Ylva was being helped into their bed. He stood there for a moment, torn between going to his wife and going to the healer currently cleaning his child, until Eir noticed him and rolled her eyes good naturedly before going over and nudging him towards the bed. Ylva gave him a tired smile as he sat beside her and he returned it before leaning down to kiss her.

 

    “Congratulations; you now have a son,” Eir said as she came over and placed the bundle of blankets in its mother’s waiting arms then stepped back.

 

    They looked down at the slightly fussing infant, unable to keep the smile off their faces; he looked much like his father, but with his mother’s complexion and shockingly blue eyes. Loki reached over and closed his fingers around the tiny reaching hand. “Hello little Stellan,” He murmured.

 

    Ylva frowned slightly and slapped Loki’s shoulder. “You’re not supposed to name him yet!” She scolded. Loki muttered an apology but didn’t look particularly sorry and she rolled her eyes and turned back to her son.

 

    There was a slight yelp from outside the room and soon after Fenrir bounded into the room and leaped onto the bed, sniffing Ylva worriedly, to which they laughed as she pushed him away gently. Stellan made a noise of complaint and Fenrir backed away and peered at him before leaning closer to sniff him curiously. The infant fussed a bit before beginning to cry, causing Fenrir’s ears to press flat against his head and he let out a low whine. Ylva shushed the baby gently before baring her breast and bringing him to it; it took a few tries as she got used to it, but soon he was contentedly suckling away.

 

    The rest of the royal family walked in sometime later to the sight of Ylva holding her child with Loki on one side of her, an arm around her shoulders and the other hand cradling his son’s head, and Fenrir on the other leaning on the pillows and looking at the infant intently as thought trying to figure it out. Frigga couldn’t help the smile that overtook her features seeing her son so very happy when he had once been so afraid it would never happen.

 

    Thor walked over, a bruise forming on the side of his face where Fenrir had struck him in his haste to get out of his grip, and walked over to stand by his brother and greet his nephew. “So,” he said after a while, “When do we greet the next one?”

 

    At that, Ylva’s lips flattened to a straight line and she gave him a level look. “Brother, dear,” She began calmly, “It would be in your best interest to leave this room very, _very_ soon...”

 

    “Honestly, Thor; sometimes I’m surprised Sif hasn’t killed you yet,” Loki said, shaking his head in disbelief.

 

    “Alright; everyone out,” Eir said, interrupting anything Thor might have replied, “The princess needs to rest.” She then began to shoo them all away save for Fenrir, knowing nothing would make the wolf move anytime soon.

 

    Loki placed Stellan in his cradle in the room he and Ylva had had so painstakingly prepared then simply stood there gazing down at him as he slept peacefully. He pulled up his left sleeve and traced the words on his skin, thinking back to the time before Ylva had spoken them. He had been so sure she would reject him, that he would spend the rest of his life alone, unwanted by the one who was fated to love him most.

 

    Looking at what he had with Ylva now, at his son slumbering away before him; he knew the wait had been worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Ylva means 'she-wolf'.
> 
> The vanir didn't really see much of an issue with incest (the easiest example being Freyr and Frejya, who were twins and more-or-less-occasional lovers), but the aesir most certainly did. It's a rather touchy subject between the two peoples.
> 
> The wolf wasn't meant to be Fenrir; it was just going to be a regular, if incredibly long lived, wolf, but when I was going to write his name my fingers wrote 'Fen' automatically and then I had to go back and edit a few things because I'm a pushover to my subconscience and I love that ornery pooch too damn much.
> 
> Norsemen didn't name their children until after they had lived for nine days (mostly because infant deaths were a very real thing), with the father giving the baby a name and formally accepting it into the family in a ceremony on the tenth day. Loki is not a patient man, clearly. XD


End file.
